


The ABCs of Bilbo and Thorin

by allthewaytoerebor



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Growing Old Together, M/M, Rebuilding Erebor, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:14:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21651337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthewaytoerebor/pseuds/allthewaytoerebor
Summary: The story of love between a king and his burglar.*The chapters are their own events, and all together they make up one plot (not chronologically structured), each chapter has its own tags. Enjoy!
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47





	1. A: acorn

**Author's Note:**

> Tags: Dragon Sickness, Angst and Fluff

“Bilbo!” the hobbit turns as soon as he hears the worried voice behind him.  
Bilbo’s eyes had been fixated upon the large frame Smaug has exited through, his thoughts riddled with anxiety for the people of Lake Town. Despite his anxiousness, he exhales in relief as he quickly shifts to the source of the voice he knows so well and sees Thorin unharmed.

The king steps close to him, gracing his shoulders with the gentle grip of his hands. He’s slightly out of breath from running down to the gallery where Bilbo is standing.

“Thank Mahal you are okay,” Thorin looks into his eyes.

“I-well, I’m not the one we should be worrying about right now,” Bilbo raises his eyebrows, lines forming on his forehead.

“True. The humans,” It’s difficult for Thorin to form a proper sentence, as They had all been caught by surprise as the dragon had risen from what seemed like a definitive death and stormed out of the mountain. At last Thorin’s gaze slips away from Bilbo to turn towards Lake Town, but only for a few seconds before returning, like the burglar’s eyes are magnets and Thorin is magnetised.

“But first and foremost what matters is that you didn’t get harmed,” he gives the hobbit’s shoulders a squeeze, looking at him with what Bilbo reads as disbelief and comfort.

“Oh-I suppose we were all quite lucky to come out from that alive.”

“Lucky…”

“Right, I forgot, you don’t believe in luck,” Bilbo’s mouth can’t help but form a smile. Thorin’s does the same, which makes Bilbo’s smile widen. Whenever Thorin smiles Bilbo cherishes it, as he doesn’t do it that often and he looks beautiful when he does. The king has the kind of smile that reaches his eyes, which sparkle and make him look young and hopeful again.

That day had been the last time Bilbo witnessed Thorin express joy. Now, he is looking older and darker than ever. Bilbo rarely sees him, and when he does it is to be commanded around or sights of him being occupied with his gold. What had started out as occasional admiration has become a constant obsession; he spends almost every hour of every day down there, walking among endless amounts of glittering wealth. Bilbo hasn’t seen him eat or sleep ever since his mind became clouded with greed.

Bilbo often finds himself wondering where Thorin is. Is he still in there, or is he completely gone? Is there still a chance of bringing him back? Or is this who he is now, as unchangeable as a stone? He hopes desperately that Thorin is not beyond saving.

He misses Thorin terribly. He misses Thorin protecting his kin, Thorin honouring loyalty, courage and willingness above all else, Thorin reassuring Bilbo that all will be well, even Thorin acting stubborn to protect what he believes is right.

That Thorin is gone now. The Thorin Bilbo trusts, the Thorin he loves. For now, the Thorin Bilbo is fond of is buried deep underneath all the gold in the mountain.

Bilbo tries to keep himself focused on what needs to be done on the daily basis. It has been proven difficult when Thorin’s voice as he casts orders is so uncaring and harsh, unlike how soft and trusting it used to be.

Today is yet another day of Bilbo wondering and trying to find a cure to Thorin’s illness. The mountain hallway is empty and silent, the only thing to be heard is his own breathing, which is becoming shorter by the day, and the distant sound of wind clashing against the mountain. The stone feels cold and hard against his body where he is sitting. Bilbo has to support his upper body with his hands to keep himself stable, as his mind becomes ever more unstable and violent.

Then he remembers it.  
The arkenstone. It suddenly feels enormously heavy in his pocket, even heavier than the golden ring.

_“Balin, if-if Thorin had the arkenstone, well if-if it was found, would it help?”_

_“That stone crowns all. It is the summit of this great wealth, bestowing power upon he who wields it. Would it stay his madness? No, laddie. I fear it would make him worse. Perhaps it is best it remains lost.”_

Hearing Balin confirm the worst had been horrible. Bilbo had hoped that the object could somehow be of help, but it seems to be the main drive of Thorin’s madness.

reaching into his pocket, he pulls out the Arkenstone. It’s stunning to behold, with its cosmic colours and glittering like that of stars, but the hobbit doesn’t understand how someone can go mad and ill with possessiveness over such a small object.

 _What Am I going to do about you?_ he thinks himself. Before he can find an answer, he hears the horridly harsh voice belonging to Thorin behind him.

“What is that?”

Bilbo stiffens. As Thorin approaches with a stride, Bilbo hastily tucks the gem into his pocket before rising to greet him.

“It-It’s nothing,” He manages to keep his voice believing enough.

“Show me,” Thorin demands, his face cold and angered.

Bilbo meets his eyes, looking into them in despair. Before he can think over his actions, Bilbo has an acorn that has been lying in his pocket since forever displayed in his palm. Thorin shifts his focus onto it, seemingly fascinated.

“I picked it up in Beorn’s garden,” Bilbo explains, his eyes going from Thorin’s to his own hand and back.

Thorin looks back up, meeting Bilbo’s hazel eyes with his own blue ones. Bilbo thinks he notices a familiar gentleness in them. Could it be? he wonders if Thorin is returning to himself in disbelief.

“You’ve carried it all this way,” Thorin’s voice is gentle now, matching his eyes.

“I’m going to plant it in my garden, in Bag-End,” Bilbo shifts his center of attention rapidly between Thorin’s eyes and his own feet a few times as he speaks, his body swaying a bit, feeling slightly nervous where he is standing. He looks up and meets Thorin’s eyes again. Bilbo is afraid of what he is going to find in them, but unexpectedly he sees the same gentleness remaining and a slight smile glorifying his face. This must be too good to be true.

“It’s a poor price to take back to the shire,” Thorin’s voice is almost a whisper now. The awe is lingering on in his eyes.

“One day it’ll grow,” Bilbo feels surer on his words now, flashing a smile before continuing, “and every time I look at it I’ll remember. Remember everything that happened; the good, the bad,” He looks up again, determined to not let his eyes travel away from Thorin this time, “and how lucky I am that I made it home.”

He smiles again, letting out a breath of relief, which heightens as a precious, wholehearted smile appears on Thorin’s lips, making his perfect teeth show and eyes sparkle with happiness. Bilbo admires it. He feels intensely reassured, Thorin is not completely lost, he is still here, shining through in his smile.

_This is my chance to bring him back._

“Thorin…” Bilbo starts as carefully as ever, hesitating a bit before continuing.

“I-it’s good to see your smile again,” Bilbo hopes he is saying the right thing. Thorin’s face shifts to being slightly bewildered.

“I haven’t-haven’t recognised you lately,” remorse floods Bilbo’s eyes as he speaks and shakes his head slightly, looking down at his feet yet again, noticing how dry his throat is. He meets Thorin’s eyes again, seeing hat the softness is still remaining in them, but they look sensitive as glass now, watering.

“You-you haven’t been yourself,” Bilbo’s voice breaks as he speaks, he lets out a quiet sob.

“Thorin, I-I need you back. Please, come back to me,” before he has time to think of something else to say, a drop of water rolls down the king’s cheek.

“Bilbo…” Thorin whispers, his face looking more regretful than ever.

“My burglar...Bilbo,” a look of incredible realisation spreads across Thorin’s face. Bilbo lets another sob escape through his mouth.

“I’m so sorry, I-I’m so sorry for everything-” the king finally lets go, his eyes overcoming with tears and his body shaking violently as he cries. Thorin reaches his left hand up to cover his eyes, ashamed of himself.

Bilbo feels a sharp pain in his heart at the sight, “Thorin,” he tries to calm him down by stepping closer and gently gripping his wrist, pushing Thorin’s hand away from his face.

Thorin’s eyes remain sunken, too shameful to look up. Bilbo places the fingers of his other hand on Thorin’s chin, the soft and dark hair of his beard tingling the tips of his fingers. The fingers of his other hand lightly push Thorin’s face up. The dwarf doesn’t resist Bilbo’s comfort, rather deciding to trust it as he at last looks up and into Bilbo’s eyes. His cheeks are wet and flushed and his eyes are red and raw from the tears, his hair has fallen like curtains on the sides of his face.

Bilbo’s mouth slips ajar. He lifts his other hand, deciding to let go of all fear as he pushes Thorin’s hair behind his ear, letting his hand settle behind his ear afterwards. The pulse from Thorin’s heart is strong, Bilbo is quite sure he can feel it with his hand.

“It’s alright. I’m here,” the smaller man comforts him.

Thorin’s right hand reaches Bilbo’s cheek while his left hand finds its place on his waist.

Bilbo’s heart must be beating faster than Thorin’s, he is certain. The warmth from Thorin’s hands is making him dizzy yet more perceptive at the same time. What little there is of space between them grows smaller as Thorin’s eyes shift from Bilbo’s eyes to his lips, and Bilbo follows Thorin’s lead and thins the air between them by pushing his head forward slowly.

Thorin takes the final plunge by pressing his lips softly against Bilbo’s.

They both close their eyes, letting it last as the entire mountain crumbles to dust around them and only their crude emotions remain. After a while Bilbo pulls away slowly, breathes in deeply and daringly looks Thorin deep into his eyes, touching his soul.

“Bilbo-” is all Thorin can manage to utter before the hobbit presses against him again, This time with more force, tightening the grip he has on Thorin with his hand and letting his other hand explore Thorin’s cheek, stroking his thumb over his soft and wetted skin and beard. They start moving against each other, slowly at first, exploring new territory, until Bilbo lets his mouth open and Thorin gently lets his mouth do as it pleases, his tongue caressing Bilbo calmly. Thorin’s lips are soft, just as Bilbo has expected them to be, yet more than he could ever imagine them being.

They break the kiss to breathe. Thorin pushes Bilbo’s forehead against his own, Bilbo smiles at the dwarfish way of showing affection.

“Thank you, Bilbo,” Thorin beames, “you are the only one whose love is powerful enough to shine that dark and twisted sickness away.”

“Thorin...no words can express how grateful I am to have you back,” he smiles again.

Thorin chuckles with joy, Bilbo reacts by letting out a soft giggle. He kisses the king who has softened in his hands once again, gently and long, basking in Thorin’s light.

“Ehm,” the moment is snatched from them by a cough coming from the end of the hallway, where Dwalin is standing in front of a company of very flabbergasted dwarfs.

“I found them like this,” Dwalin speaks. Thorin and Bilbo slowly let go of each other and turn to face the group. They both look at each other before looking back at the lot of dwarves, bursting out laughing at their expressions. Soon enough, however, the expressions fade away and are replaced by cheers and smiles.

“He’s back!” Bofur shouts contently.

“Uncle!” Fili and Kili yell as they rush forward and hug Thorin, who wraps one hand around each of them.

Bilbo steps back a bit to give them space. Next thing he knows, Many of them come towards him to congratulate him and give him affirmations.

“How’d you do it?” Balin muses.

“Well-a bit of charm and boldness was all it took,” he bribes to the old dwarf.

“I always knew there was something between you two. Well done, laddie,” a pat upon Bilbo’s shoulder by Balin is accompanied by many more from the company.

“Thorin, where in Mahal’s beard have you been?” Dwalin smashes his forehead against Thorin’s.

“Dwalin, my friend!”

Bilbo and Thorin find each other again, grabbing the other man and meeting his curved lips with his own. The company just cheers louder, yelling and applauding to such a degree that Bilbo expects the mountain to rumble with them.


	2. B: Bag-end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags: angst, masturbation

By the time Thorin gets to bed, his mind is weary. There is much to consider and contemplate for this quest - it feels overwhelming, even though he has had most of his life to think it all over. It’s as if the immense importance of them succeeding has dawned on him. 

Of course, he has known these things all along; the great risks they are taking, the obstacles they must overcome, and the weight of the crown he must one day carry.

However, It all seems impossible to overcome now.

And then there is the hobbit. Thorin has yet to uncover what Gandalf had been thinking inviting such a delicate creature on their quest. His perceptions of the halfling had already been bad, and then he had fainted at the mere description of Smaug; they had quickly worsened.

Thorin hopes that the hobbit doesn’t sign their contract, though they needed a 14th man, this halfling is not him. 

At least this “Bilbo” was kind enough to offer him the guest room. The dwarven king is settled on the bed, lying on his side with his arms crossed, gazing into the light from a buffering candle that stands on the nightstand beside the bed.

He starts singing. It’s an ancient song passed through his forefathers, swelling his chest, throat, and mouth with ease as he hums the deep, dense words.

*

Bilbo can’t sleep. The ceiling above him seems infinitely far away, stretching on for miles above his bed. The room is dark and the sheets are cold. There is a strange longing for warmth in him, stronger than it has ever been before.

Bilbo realises that he has been lonely. 

For the last couple of years, living alone hasn’t been too bad. Some nights have been worse than others, but most of the time he gets by just fine. For some reason, tonight he feels more alone than ever before. his unexpected guests have been lively. It had felt good to be accompanied, despite how unprepared he was for it. Maybe, now that he got a taste of being surrounded by good company, he needed it more than ever before? It was a curious idea; that these unfamiliar dwarves had given him such a feeling. 

There is one of them he is particularly craving the warmth of - who carries a sunken, yet passionate expression on his face; as if he has lived through years of hardship, but still holds on with hope. Bilbo is curious about what’s hiding behind those beaten eyes.

Thorin Oakenshield, that is his name, Bilbo recalls. He has been cold towards Bilbo all evening, except for when Bilbo showed him to his room, and gotten a small nod and thanks in return, which had resulted in Bilbo blushing to the degree that he had to turn away.

Of course he has to be attracted to the blasted dwarf. 

Even now, just the image of him makes Bilbo feel flustered and heavy in his body. There is a longing for gripping his hair, discovering his skin, stroking his beard, and stroking something else. Bilbo sighs.

Then, as unexpectedly as the company of 13 dwarves, he hears low singing coming from the room next door. His breath gets stuck in his throat. Thorin’s voice is beautiful; he has heard it before, when all the dwarves sung together. But this is different. This is private, loaded with emotions. Even though Bilbo can’t understand a word in the foreign language he is singing in, the grief is clear.

The blissful sound continues on, and it makes the need of warmth in his body grow, expanding from his pelvis. It’s so easy to reach down and start stroking his eager member. He knows it is highly inappropriate (especially for a Baggins!), but he can’t seem to care, for at the moment the warmth is so welcomed and needed and blissful. 

He swallows his moans as he comes, letting the continuous voice of Thorin Oakenshield guide him to his climax.

As soon as he has wiped himself off and his breath has caught up to him, shame overtakes him. There is no way he would be able to even look at Thorin tomorrow; no way he could go with them on this ridiculous quest. He has to stay here. Alone.

A sharp, lonely sob escapes his throat. Bilbo immediately clasps his hand over his mouth to silence himself, holding his breath as the singing comes to a sudden end. Thorin has heard him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This one's a bit short, but I'll make it up with the next one, which will be longer.
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated <3


	3. C: Crown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags: emotional sex, confessions, angst and fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't uploaded to this work in a long while. I finished writing this chapter months ago, but I didn't have much motivation to beta it, until now!   
> This chapter is quite long, and full of loads of smut, enjoy!

Thorin gets coronated few weeks after the battle. As soon as all things needed are in order, the great hall of Erebor is prepared for the great ceremony of a king gaining his crown. He feels a stirring of anxiety as he walks up to where Gandalf is standing and holding the crown gently in his hands, passing through the gathering of very sentimental looking dwarfs. When he passes the front row Bilbo gives him an assuring smile. Thorin feels the knot in his stomach loosen up, and nods gratefully at him in return.  
As the crown settles on his head, all feels right. He turns and looks out upon the crowd. He cannot help but feel immense satisfaction at the scene, having his people reunited, the crown in its right place, and his heart no longer clouded with the gold sickness.

After the ceremony, there is a great party.  
hours of laughter, drinking, and music pass by, and even more of the dwarves pass out - they pride themselves on how well they can hold their liquor, but Erebor’s ale is something quite of its own.

The king sits at the middle of the head table. He is in a haze of sorts; a pleasant one of joy and bliss, as he watches his people enjoy the fine evening. The three ale mugs that are placed on the table of front of him have been emptied a while ago. He might be sobering, but he is still relishing the fading sensation of the alcohol.   
A content look graces his features. He is happy: his home is won back, his people are home, and all is good. 

Except for one thing.   
Bilbo Baggins.   
That bold, beautiful creature is sitting a bit further away, deep in conversation with Ori. Thorin lets his eyes settle on him and a sigh escapes him. The past week has been hectic, full of duties and urgencies, and there hasn’t been much time for Thorin to spare for his own; or even worse, to spare for Bilbo. Amongst all of the mess rebuilding a kingdom is, they have only had time for small affirmations and short lived looks. Tonight Thorin intends to change that. He is crowned now; it feels like the first major step towards getting Erebor in its right condition had been taken, and he can finally let himself loosen up a bit more.  
Of course, he terribly regrets how he has been dismissing Bilbo’s gestures all week. It had hurt him to get lesser of those warm eyes in his direction. However, he can hardly blame Bilbo for it, after all it was Thorin himself who had given him little attention back. Now, the hobbit’s eyes are looking as warm as ever, glaced slightly and focused on Ori.  
Thorin longs for them to shift towards him. He keeps looking at Bilbo, hoping for him to notice him.  
It is of no use. Instead, he folds his arms and looks away, losing interest of whatever his eyes land on.   
Does Bilbo not have any interest of him any longer? He had smiled so brightly at Thorin earlier, even shed a few tears of joy for him, he recalled; but that could all have been platonic.  
It disappointed Thorin, yet it didn’t surprise him. Of course the halfling would stop caring for him sooner or later, it could only be expected after how harshly Thorin had acted towards him time and time again. 

But he said he forgave you for all of that, remember? And then he kissed you. All of that couldn’t have been for nothing, a positive thought sparks in his head. Thorin being Thorin, he quickly dismisses it. Of course Bilbo forgave him; he was such a kind and understanding being. But it didn’t mean that he loved him. And he might as well have kissed Thorin to comfort him, every time he had done it. Maybe hobbits kissed their friends?  
It is settled then; the halfling doesn’t feel anything for him. He is a fool to have thought that Bilbo would ever love him.

“Thorin? Are you all right?” A gentle voice speaks to his right as an even gentler hand settles on his shoulder.  
Thorin turns sharply towards Bilbo. In his deep pondering Thorin seemed to have missed out on Bilbo excusing himself from Ori and walking towards him. He fixates his eyes on the hobbit and his mouth slips ajar, adoring the look of concern on Bilbo’s face.  
“Bilbo…” He utters dumbfoundingly, not knowing what to say or do.

“Thorin? You didn’t answer my question,” Bilbo asks again, tilting his head.

“Yes, I’m fine...why did you come over here? You seemed to have been enjoying Ori’s company,” Thorin is curious. 

“Well...I-I can leave if you want me to,” Bilbo sounds a bit let down, removing his hand from Thorin and taking a step back.

“No! Stay.” Thorin urges, reaching his hand out and gripping Bilbo’s hand.

Bilbo looks down on where their hands are joined and up at Thorin again, seemingly puzzled.

“Sorry, I...” Thorin struggles, he doesn’t know exactly what he is apologising for.  
“Please. Stay,” he asks again, desperation creeping into his voice.

“I thought you-I thought you didn’t want me?” Bilbo speaks carefully.

Thorin feels a sharp pain from Bilbo’s words thrusting into his heart. There are so many things he wants to say to him.

“Would you...speak with me in private?” He asks delicately, slightly tightening his grip around Bilbo’s hand.

“Gladly,” Bilbo nods.

“Come,” Thorin gets up and leads Bilbo away from the hall.

“Where are we going?” Bilbo is intrigued. 

“You’ll see,” Thorin smiles, turning right down a hallway, getting further away from the loundless of the party.

They finally get to their destination.

“These are the royal chambers. I’ve been meaning to take you here sooner,” Thorin starts explaining, quickly looking over his shoulder at Bilbo, who is studying the walls, which are filled with ancient runes and golden carvings.

“Its magnificent,” Bilbo speaks softly.

“Here’s the king’s chambers,” Thorin lifts his eyebrows slightly as he speaks smugly, opening the door at the end of the hallway and inviting Bilbo to step inside.  
Bilbo looks up at him before walking inside, being welcomed by a spacious living room.

“I’ll get a fire going,” Thorin urges as he notices the chilliness hung in the air, striding towards the fireplace and piling a few stocks of wood in it.

“It’s quite large,” Bilbo studies the room. There is a pair of cozy looking, red armchairs facing the fireplace, with a dark-wooden table between them. A big, white, fur is on the floor in front of the fireplace along with some velvet cushions. 

“Please, sit,” Thorin gestures towards one of the armchairs.

Bilbo does so, settling down and looking around the rest of the room. There are bookshelves carved into the walls, and a sizeable dining table across the room. Torches are lit on all of the walls, and as soon as the fire is cracking away cheerily, Thorin gets to lighting candles that are placed around the room, lastly lighting the beige one that is on the table between the armchairs.

“Don’t you have people to do this for you?” Bilbo wonders as he watches Thorin sink into the other armchair.

Thorin chuckles. “We have yet to get that in order. Besides, I prefer doing it myself,” he explains.

“Oh, I see; you’re not humble enough to let others do it for you,” Bilbo tries playfully, which surprisingly earns him another laugh.

A silence settles between them then. The only sound to be heard is that of the fire, which they’re both looking into, searching the flames for words to express what’s on their minds and in their hearts.

Thorin speaks at last. “Bilbo...I am sorry. Lately I have been dismissing you and it has been far from my pleasure to do so,” He starts, shifting his gaze towards Bilbo, who meets his desperate eyes after a while.

“It-It’s fine, I understand. You’ve had plenty to concern yourself with,” He shakes his head as he speaks slowly before continuing, “but I don’t think I can do this, Thorin, if you’re going to treat me as a second thought,” He says bitterly, his eyes going back to the fireplace.

“No! Bilbo, I...I swear, it’ll be better from now on, please...I never meant for you to get hurt,” Thorin is more desperate now. He cannot lose Bilbo.

“Well You never do, do you?” Bilbo sounds slightly angry, and as he turns his face towards Thorin again with harsh eyes.

“Bilbo-Please don’t...I swear I will never hurt you again-”

“How do I know that you won’t?” Bilbo cuts him off.  
Thorin swallows hard. Bilbo is staring at him intensely, his breath getting louder. This is Thorin’s only chance. If he messes up, Bilbo might run away from him and never come back, and Thorin can’t even stand the thought of that. 

Needing to be closer to the hobbit, he slowly moves from the armchair and gets on his knees in front of Bilbo, placing his hands on Bilbo’s knees.

He looks up at Bilbo through sore and defeated eyes.  
“Because I need you,” he speaks carefully, almost whispering.  
“I...I love you,” Thorin confesses, exhaling a breath he had been holding, anxiously waiting to see what Bilbo would respond.

Bilbo thinks for a moment. His features soften, the frown that was on his face being erased completely.

“Get up from your knees, you idiot!” Bilbo stands up and reaches his hands out for Thorin to take. Thorin does so, quite shocked at the sudden complaint.

Before he can stand up properly, Bilbo janks his hands down so that their faces meet, pressing his lips against Thorin’s. Thorin’s eyes widen, but they close soon enough, enjoying the kiss.

Bilbo moves away slightly, but keeps their foreheads in touch and his eyes closed.  
“I love you too, you great cloth-head.” He smiles.

Thorin lets out a relieved laugh, letting his teeth show as he smiles.  
“Thank Mahal,”

“You have no one to thank but yourself. You may be a fool sometimes, but you’re the handsomest, most lovable and caring fool I’ve ever met,” Bilbo admits adoringly.

Their lips meet again, with more friction and need than last time. They move violently against each other, Bilbo wrapping his arms around Thorin’s neck and Thorin gripping Bilbo’s waist.  
Bilbo opens his mouth somewhat, inviting Thorin to explore it. Thorin eagerly slips his tongue into it, moving his lips as he lets his tongue rub and move against Bilbo’s. Bilbo tastes of ale, but it’s a sweet and warm taste, making Thorin feel very welcomed.  
He pulls away to catch his breath. 

“You said you thought I didn’t want you. Bilbo...I want you more than I’ve wanted anything in my life,” Thorin knows that he sounds terribly desperate. But he cares not, he wants Bilbo to know just how much he craves him.

“Then take me,” Bilbo is needy as he breathes fiercely. Thorin feels a pinch of arousal at the request, tensening as he pulls Bilbo even closer.  
They kiss again, Bilbo leading them to rotate so that Thorin is standing closest to the armchair, before pushing him into it. Thorin is taken aback by the sudden move, but finds himself enjoying it as Bilbo sits down in his lap with one leg at each side, bringing their lips together again, having the vantage and pressing himself against Thorin in the most intoxicating way. Bilbo’s hands go into Thorin’s hair, pulling it carefully. It makes Thorin smile. He loves the feeling of Bilbo’s hands in his hair, his tender palms and fingers tingle his spine and makes him feel relaxed, even if what Bilbo is doing is pulling. 

Bilbo’s lips start descending. They reach Thorin’s neck, where they get busy placing gentle kisses, careful at first, then they turn into sucking and gentle biting, to which Thorin gives a moan.   
This only motivates Bilbo to continue. Brushing his fingers through Thorin’s curls, he starts sucking harder on each spot he effects with his mouth. His hips shift position slightly, arching his back so that his arse peaks out and his erection gets in a favourable position. He starts moving, grinding his hips, rubbing his cock against Thorin’s through their clothes.

“Bilbo…” Thorin moans. Bilbo sets a dedicated pace as he groans, high and uncontrollable sounds clashing against Thorin’s skin.

Thorin’s hands move down to Bilbo’s arse. Bilbo leans into them, resulting in a squeeze from Thorin, Who is pleased with the full curve of it against his hands.  
“Your arse is quite appealing,” he cherishes. Bilbo only responds with a moan.

Thorin continues rubbing his hands against Bilbo’s buttocks, making an urgent demand, “get your clothes off.”  
Bilbo doesn’t need to be asked twice. He willingly rushes his coat off and starts unbuttoning his shirt, eyeing Thorin excitedly as the dwarf starts doing the same.

Once their shirts are off and flung to the side their hands start running over the other’s body, exploring their warm skin and muscles, Bilbo scans Thorin’s torso, delightfully surprised to find tattoos residing on his chest, underneath hair and a scar that drags across his left pec.

“I had no clue you have tattoos,” He admits as he runs his hands over them,

“They’re quite common. We often get them to honour something,” Thorin explains.

“Why did you get this one?” Bilbo gestures to the one that expands over his chest, which consists of bold geometrical shapes forming a pattern together.

“It resembles the strength of unity. In battle and in life,” Thorin explains, appreciating Bilbo’s fascination and intrigue.

“It’s beautiful,” the hobbit beams before leaning down and pressing kisses on it, his hands running along Thorin’s sides.  
“You’re beautiful.”  
He continues placing kisses all along Thorin’s chest, eventually moving down to his belly, getting down on his knees between Thorin’s legs to be more comfortable. He continues with the kisses. His lips and fingers savor the feeling of Thorin’s muscles underneath his skin tensing and releasing, and his dark hair gently rubbing against him. 

Bilbo’s hands go to Thorin’s trousers, unlacing them as he looks up at Thorin, asking him for permission with his eyes, and getting a very enthusiastic nod back. He carefully slides the dark-brown trousers all the way off, finding Thorin’s length in its full erect.

“Oh, goodness gracious,” Bilbo licks his lips as his hand travels up Thorin’s thigh before reaching his length, gripping it carefully. He jerks his hand slowly, his focus shifting on Thorin’s face to watch his expression.

“Bilbo..” Thorin moans gently, looking down at the sight before him, the expression of pleasure on his face intensifying as the hobbit starts moving his hand up again, this time faster and with a firmer grip. He continues moving his hand up and down Thorin’s shaft, increasing in speed before slowing down again. He plants a few teasing kisses on the insides of Thorin’s thigh.   
Then, his mouth moves to his cock, licking the head of it willingly before slipping it into his mouth. His hand continues stroking the lower part of Thorin’s cock as his mouth works on his cockhead, his tongue pleasing his nerves, wanting to relish all the details it can, especially as his lips continue further down, filling his mouth, and letting his tongue trace the veins that are scattered around his stiffness. Thorin lets out an uncontrollable grunt and thrusts his hips, forcing more of his length into Bilbo’s blissful mouth.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he apologises for the sudden move that made a choking noise come from Bilbo. But Bilbo doesn’t seem to have minded, as he continues more keenly than before, starting to move his mouth up and down, sucking determinately and getting rewarded with deep sounds from Thorin.  
Bilbo continues, gripping onto Thorin’s thigh with his other hand. Although this is enough for Thorin to come, he wants to get the last piece of clothing off his lover and have him properly.  
“Bilbo...let me taste you.”

Bilbo lets go of Thorin’s cock with his mouth and hand. Thorin misses the sensation they gave him already, but he wants Bilbo in his mouth and hands.

“Y-Yes,” The hobbit looks up at Thorin, out of breath.

“Lay down,” Thorin commands.

Bilbo obeys. He lets Thorin push him down against the fur-covered floor, which is comfortable and warm from the fireplace. Thorin sits between his legs, and extends his hands over Bilbo’s torso. He admires the way his body moves as he breathes deeply, his chest expanding as he inhales. Thorin’s hand moves up to his chest. Bilbo arches his back when Thorin rubs his thumb over Bilbo’s nipples, letting out a delicate sound.  
“I’ve yearned for you for so long...Bilbo, you’re divine,” He lets his mouth speak his thoughts, that are burning to make their presence known.  
He leans down, against Bilbo, and kisses his lips. One of his hands make its way down to Bilbo’s trousers, where he frees his cock of the clothing, Bilbo willingly lifting his hips up and kicking his pants off. While still keeping his mouth on Bilbo’s, he reaches for Bilbo’s length and starts stroking him gently. Bilbo moans Thorin’s name. Thorin catches the moan with his mouth, swallowing the sounds Bilbo makes, cherishing them. With his other hand, Thorin finds a red cushion, letting Bilbo’s lips go, and asking him to lift his hips, propping the cushion under his arse. While still keeping his hand around Bilbo’s cock in motion, Thorin places kisses on his soft belly. Then he places a few at the base of Bilbo’s length. He takes his time, tasting and feeling the burglar’s soft skin, now on the inside of his thighs. Bilbo flinches as Thorin’s beard tingles him, giggling. Thorin smiles. 

Before taking Bilbo into his mouth, he spits on his fingers. Thorin moves his fingers past Bilbo’s member, locating his entrance. He looks up at Bilbo for his approval. Bilbo eagerly accepts his offer, so Thorin proceeds to carefully massaging the rim of Bilbo’s hole with his middle finger.

“Thorin!” Bilbo nearly shouts at the sudden mouth around his cock and fingers caressing his arse.

Thorin takes Bilbo all the way into his mouth, sucking and licking, before moving back up so that just his cockhead is in his mouth, again moving back down. He sets a pace and keeps it up. His middle finger smoothly slips into Bilbo, moving as far into him as it can, before curving slightly and moving downwards until Bilbo lets out a loud moan. A second finger joins the first one. Knowing it is driving Bilbo to intense stimulation, He continues working on the same spot with now two fingers. Thorin moves his mouth faster and curves his fingers a bit more sharply.

“Th-Thorin! Stop, I’m going to-” Bilbo utters. At this Thorin stops all motions. He wants Bilbo to last until he is finished with him, to come with Thorin filling him.

“Please...I need-” Bilbo continues trying to voice his desires.

Thorin looks up at him, fully understanding what Bilbo is asking for. He gets up so that his face is close to Bilbo’s.   
Thorin places yet another kiss on his lips. “Are you sure you are ready? I don’t want to hurt you-”

“Ready? Thorin, I’m not-it’s not my first time. It’s just been a while is all,” Bilbo cuts him off, seemingly a bit offended at first, but his voice quickly becomes gentle again.

Thorin can’t help but grin at Bilbo’s blush.  
He gives him a few more kisses before getting up, finding a bottle containing a slick oil before getting back in position. He gently puts some on his length and on Bilbo’s hole.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Thorin insists.  
Bilbo nods, placing his arms around Thorin’s back, spreading his legs a bit more. 

Thorin starts pushing into him. Bilbo feels incredibly tight and warm around him as he moves all the way into him, moaning. He starts moving out, the head of his cock remaining inside before thrusting into him again, stretching his cock to its full extent, before moving out and thrusting sharply into Bilbo again, getting a loud moan from him. He repeats the motion, hitting Bilbo’s sweet spot over and over again.

“Faster,” Bilbo cries in pleasure.

Thorin speeds up, his movements becoming more rapid. His right hand goes back to Bilbo’s cock. He strokes him to the same pace as he fucks him, Bilbo’s sacred sounds becoming more frequent and filling him up, amping the growing, sharp bliss building up.

“Thorin!” Bilbo shouts, spilling all over his tummy and Thorin’s hand, his groans slowly dying away.

A rush of heat extends through Thorin’s body, like wines growing, poking and filling him with solid warmth as his body tenses, until he finally lets go and becomes completely lost in bilbo; bilbo’s heat, skin, and heart.

Thorin pulls out of Bilbo and collapses beside him, feeling impossibly warm, being illuminated by the fire and Bilbo’s radiance.  
“That was lovely,” Bilbo muses, trying to catch his breath.

After cleaning themselves up, They flop onto Thorin’s large bed together.  
Bilbo lies down on his back and places his head on Thorin’s tummy. The dwarf doesn’t mind the light-weight of Bilbo’s head at all, as the gentle teasing of his soft curls is comforting against his skin.  
Bilbo grabs Thorin’s right hand, grateful for the king’s patience as he studies it. He takes his time to turn and twist his hand gently, examining the small scars and veins that reside there while he uses both of his smaller hands to hold it and, occasionally, interwinding the fingers between his own. Surprisingly enough, The skin on Thorin’s hand is quite soft, more than Bilbo had expected.  
“Your skin is quite soft,” he decides mellowly.  
Thorin is quiet, Bilbo guesses he is deciding whether he should take it as a compliment or an insult.  
“Oh you daft dwarf, I was flattering you!” despite Bilbo’s head shaking slightly, the same admiration remains in his face and his hands do not cease to caress Thorin’s hand.  
“I used to get mocked for it when I was younger. Dwarfs are expected to have a hardness to us, even our skin must be unpierceable,” Thorin explains. His other hand is playing with Bilbo’s golden curls, disarranging and brushing them, gently pushing his fingertips against his scalp.  
“Understandable. But being soft has never been a disadvantage for me, you should try it some time,” Bilbo giggles lazily. He is relaxed; the massaging of his scalp and tracing of his hair is like warm water against his head.  
“I think you have softened me enough already as it is, my burglar,” Bilbo can feel the rumble of gratitude that goes through Thorin’s body as he speaks, vibrating the hobbit’s head with his tummy in a peculiarly soothing way.

“How did you get this?” The hobbit is referring to a white slash of a scar that stretches across his fingers.  
“It’s quite humiliating, to be honest. Once, in our tweens, Dwain and I were drunk off our senses and decided to spar.”

“Oh dear.”

“It ended with Dwalin nearly slicing off my fingers. I remember how scared I was; it was the first time I’d gotten properly hurt,” Thorin explained with a deep hum in his voice, which Bilbo found contentment in.  
“I have a hard time imagining you scared,”  
“Well...I was sensitive once. I had not faced struggle yet, I only thought about the glory of war and not the burdens it brings; Mahal was I ignorant,” Thorin exhales harshly. It pains Bilbo to think about how numb Thorin have become. What he has endured to get this far in his life is far more than the hobbit could ever grasp. He gives Thorin’s hand a reassuring squeeze, “We have all been young and ignorant, Thorin. Even I can’t say i don’t regret anything from my younger years,” Bilbo cringes.

“I am curious, what has master baggins done that makes his ears turn pink in embarrassment?” Thorin says playfully.

“I-I fooled around quite a bit as a young lad. We used to sneak into old Proudfoot’s farm at night and dare each other to steal the greatest, heaviest watermelon we could find.” Bilbo smiles as he remembers.

“A burglar you are indeed,” Thorin muses.

“I never actually participated in any of the stealing!” Bilbo is quick to inform his dwarf. Thorin reacts by joyously giving Bilbo’s hair a good ruffle.

“That’s not even the worst of it. I think my worst idea in drunkenness tops yours,”

“Oh? Do enlighten me,” curiosity is apparent in Thorin’s voice.

“For the price of an entire barrel of ale, I cut all of my feet’s hair off,” he will never understand why he had ever indulged in such nonsense. His pitiful feet! The weeks it had taken to grow back the hair he had walked around with constant shame. 

Thorin laughs, louder and deeper than Bilbo had ever heard him. “You are correct! It must have been a sight for sore eyes.”

“It was! My father was so ashamed he struggled with being seen with me outside of bag-end, while my mother made good humour out of it,”

“Do you miss them?” Thorin asks, his voice tender.  
“Yes. They were good people,” a sad smile forms on the hobbit’s face as he traces a scar on the palm of Thorin’s hand.

“I would have liked to meet them one day,” Thorin confesses. Bilbo feels his heart flutter.

“I’m sure ma would have loved you - she always had a knack for legends and adventures. But as my old pa was a Baggins, he would have been more on the hesitant side. His son, a respectable hobbit of the shire with a dwarven king? It might would’ve caused him to collapse,”

“Like you did,” Thorin teases.

“I-yes, well...now you know who I have it from!” Bilbo remembers well the first day he had encountered the dwarfs, in his own home, and fainted when Bofur had started going into details about Smaug. 

“Back then I would have never in my wildest dreams stood face to face with a dragon.” 

“Yet here we are. Your courage never failed to surprise me,” there is something sincere in Thorin’s voice that makes Bilbo feel grateful. He brings Thorin’s hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss on his knuckles, enjoying the sensations and details his fingers can’t capture, before letting go of it and propping himself up on his elbow, facing Thorin. The hand quickly settles on Bilbo’s hip. His fingers pleasingly fondle his skin. Their eyes met.

“Your eyes are so stunning,” Bilbo nearly whispers. He marvels at how the blueness of them sparkle, like precious gems.

“Come here,” Thorin beams.

Bilbo merrily crawls forward and settles himself in Thorin’s firm arms. He kisses him sweetly with his lips curved, his hair messed up, his skin gratified, and his heart at ease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are very appreciated <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I’ll try go get the next chapter up within a week or so. Any kudos or comments are appreciated!


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